GILLNET
nowhere to break away
on the boat, my smoke snuck out
the porthole above the toilet,
rereading his juvie devotions
on legal yellow
a battle of temperatures, the hull
was warm in the muddy Fraser,
ice hold tepid with fish, lunch on red ring
cloud seemed to boil opening week
when we took the biggest catch
lacerated bodies splayed slick
on the deck, bashed to the side
over waves
in the bath, unscrubbable scales
sheathed my legs in a tail
of refraction mesh the same that snags
gill filament to rob breath
fish oiled every inhale,
every paper bill,
overpowering perfume counters at the mall
to score Doc Martens and lipstick,
land sick, I threw up in the garbage
I thought of the way
one salmon looked
when I put her back
in the current too late
Originally published in The Humber Literary Review, Winter 2022/23
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